


The Shipbuilder's Daughter

by OpalSpirit



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel, Titanic (1997), Titanic: Blood and Steel (TV), Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: 1912 Belfast, 2012 Loki, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drawing events from Titanic 1997 and the TV show Titanic: Blood and Steel, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki steals the Tesseract and time hops, Slow Burn, Time Travel, sinking ships, the crossover you didn't know you needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:33:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27993825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpalSpirit/pseuds/OpalSpirit
Summary: When he took the Tesseract, leaving behind the mess of New York City, he did not expect to remain on the same planet.Landing in Belfast a century earlier, Loki becomes witness to one of the most memorable events in human history. For in those shipyards, the RMS Titanic is being built. It is in those same yards, that he meets her. The shipbuilder's daughter.Encouraged by her father to befriend the mysterious man with a name to match, she finds herself ensnared as her mind soon fills with questions and thoughts of him. So it is, that upon the ship's completion, she can do little else but invite him to partake in the maiden voyage, not knowing the nightmare that would unfold mere days later.But is history set in stone? Faced with more than the loss of his freedom, he aids the mortals he despises so much. Lives are saved that night, more than the history books say. And yet, when she is not among that number, what lengths will he go to to ensure her survival? To ensure the survival of all aboard that doomed vessel.
Relationships: Loki/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	1. As cold as ice...

_~ 15th of April 1912, the Atlantic Ocean ~_

_Never had he been as grateful for his heritage as he was now. Surrounded on all sides by water so cold it ought to be frozen solid, his attention, much like that of his fellow passengers, was on the tragedy occurring before their very eyes._

_Those that had swum from the sinking ship had long since been pulled to safety within the lifeboats. Coats were shared and blankets spread as far as they could reach to provide what warmth they could find._

_By the light of the moon and stars they watched it all. Yet his mind was elsewhere, with someone whom he had not seen since they had struck that accursed iceberg. He had not seen her since she had dashed below decks to aid those in the lower classes. No one had seen her since, no matter how loud he called for her. And now, as the lifeboats huddled together, he saw no sign of her._

_That could mean but one thing. It was a notion and possibility that he thrust roughly away. It froze the blood in his veins and ceased the beating of his heart. Before him, the stern of the ship was sinking below the surface. The ship she had helped to build, the ship she and her father had taken so much pride in._

_He would ask one last time. He would try one last time. He had to know. Her father was safe, but what of her?_

_Turning to the woman beside him, he asked softly but with no small amount of urgency. "Have you, by the slimmest chance, seen her? Miss Andrews? Miss Y/N Andrews?"_

_The woman he spoke with shook her head. There was a grief in her eyes that was threatening to overwhelm him. "No," she whispered._

_In one last desperate attempt, he cast out his seidr. Those in the boat with him, watched him silently. They watched as his eyes scanned the water around them and searched the boats beside them._

_Then. Then, as the water finally swallowed the very last of the ship, he felt something. Though she did not wield, it was her very essence that his seidr now searched for and had found._

_It was as he had feared. Thinking of little else, he stood and ignored the surprise and confusion of the others. Shrugging off his coat, he let it fall to the bench below him. His gaze was locked on the ink black water._

_"Sir?" Said the woman beside him in horror as she realised the truth of his actions. "Surely not-?"_

_He said but two words before he dove into the freezing water. "I must."_

_"That boy is in love," murmured an elderly gentleman to his wife who sat beside him._

_"What makes you believe that?" Asked the woman now holding his discarded coat and staring at the place where he had disappeared below the surface._

_It was the wife who spoke now, her hands linked with those of her husband as she rested her head on his shoulder. "Did you not hear him call for her? Did you not see him search for her? And now, those actions of his, diving into the cold waters of the Atlantic after a sunken ship. It is clear she was still on board and he knew it."_

_Unaware and uncaring of the conversations taking place on the surface, he swam. The water, already so dark, was made darker still the deeper he swam. Letting his Aesir glamour drop and calling forth a small light, he continued on. The pressure grew the deeper it became and a headache was beginning to form._

_Following the pull of his seidr, he soon caught sight of the ship. Settled on the sea floor it was, the glow of the witchlight glimmering eerily through the water and against the railings and broken hull. Reaching out, he let one hand rest lightly upon the name painted across the prow. Each letter he traced._

_The saltwater caught his tears and swept them away._

_Shaking his head, he continued his search. The pull lead him through the entirety of the ship, allowing him to see that each and every room was empty. Then it led him down into the shattered bowels. And came to a halt before a sealed iron door._

_He swallowed hard. He knew what this was and where it lead. On the first day of the voyage, she had given him a tour. This was one of the many doors that lead to the engine room. Her interest in those towering machines had intrigued him. Laying his hands flat against the metal, he closed his eyes. It was already taking considerable concentration to maintain the hovering witchlight. The mounting headache from the pressure was certainly not helping. Nor was the fact that his lungs were beginning to burn with the need to breathe._

_Gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw, he forced himself to focus._

_It was an eternity later that he felt the iron beneath his hands begin to move. With a great shove, he pulled them up and open._

_There she was. Her hair hung loose and suspended in the water, as did the fabric of the evening gown she had worn to dinner. Her eyes were closed and one hand was stretched out to where the door had once been._

_Diving down, he curled his arms around her and pulled her close, her head resting over his heart. She bore no pulse and her skin was as ice. Swallowing his fear and forcing his thundering heart to calm, he called upon the last reserves of strength he had and allowed his seidr to pull them to the surface._

_Icy wind greeted him and nothing else. There was not a single soul in sight. The lifeboats were all gone, leaving behind only floating pieces of debris. He chose the largest one and lay her on it. Ice crystals were already forming in her hair and on her skin, rendering her appearance otherworldly. Pulling himself up beside her, he pulled her to him in an effort to shield her from the cold that surrounded them._

_"Foolish woman," he muttered as one hand carded through her hair, the crystals shattering at his touch and melting as he called warmth to his hands. "Why were you in such a place? Why did you go where I could not find you?"_

_Silence answered him. A deafening silence._

_"You may wake now," he whispered. "You are safe. I have you."_

_Still nothing. She remained silent in his arms._

_He felt his lips begin to tremble and his jaw begin to quiver. His eyes burned with rare tears as he looked to her. "Do not go where I cannot follow," he said, voice cracking and brow furrowing as he continued to fight the tears. "Do not-" he could not manage the words for the pain was too great. Looking up to the stars he let out a breath that stuttered out of him and finally the tears fell._

_They burned his skin and fell like rain upon her closed eyes and cheeks. His arms tightened around her and his hands clutched at her. The gown she wore had frozen and made her appear as though she were carved from the ice itself._

_"Your father survived," he whispered to her, gazing down at her. "He searched for you as I did, but you had disappeared into the chaos." Pausing, he took a trembling breath before speaking again. "If the fates would give me but one more chance. One last time to hear your voice and sweet, full laughter. One last time to see the sunlight dance in your eyes and play through your hair. If that chance was given to me, I would not waste a second more-" his voice broke as he buried his face in her shoulder and wept._

_He had never thought to find love. Least of all in that time of his life. But then he had met her after he had wondered into the shipyard where she had worked alongside her father, Thomas Andrews. He remembered their first meeting. He remembered the pride in her eyes as she had shown him the ship that was still very much in the early stages of construction._

_He remembered everything._

_It all began when he had taken the Tesseract for himself, eager to escape the clutches of SHIELD and the Avengers. He remembered very clearly the day he had arrived in the city he would come to know as Belfast..._


	2. A new time and place

~ 31st of August 1909 - Belfast, Ireland ~

Just where in the Nine where was he?

When the Tesseract had come to a halt at his feet, Loki had seen a way out. A chance at freedom. Just where that blue cube had taken him, he had not the faintest idea. Upon snapping the chain between the cuffs and ridding himself of that horrid muzzle, he took a moment to glance around.

He was most definitely in a city. Quickly changing his attire for something less conspicuous, he stepped out of the alley he had landed in. All around him people bustled on with their lives, unaware of who had landed in their midst but a few moments earlier.

So, he began to walk, following the flow of the crowd. The buildings and inhabitants of the city seemed strangely Midgardian. Had he left Earth at all? Something was different, that his mind knew. Everything seemed of the same shade of grey with little colour. It all seemed rather grim.

Those that glanced his way only did so for brief moments before going about their business. It soon dawned on him that those around him did not know who he was. Had they not been made aware of the events in New York?

Confusion was rife as he took in his new surrounds. He recognised nothing and those he heard speak all spoke with an accent he was unfamiliar with. A persistent dampness seemed to hang in the air, with only the occasional breeze to shift it about a bit.

Polite nods and murmured greetings came his way, which in turn only lead to intensify his bewilderment. Had news of his actions truly not reached them? Or did they simply not care? He fervently hoped for the latter. He did not wish to have to finally have freedom in his grasp for it to be taken away within mere moments. Indifference he could handle, he had done so his entire life.

But it was not with that that the people now treated him. There appeared to be a modicum of respect and he was not blind to see how the ladies he passed giggled softly or went completely silent should he look their way, a faint blush tinting their cheeks before a fan hid them from view.

Turning his attention elsewhere, he soon saw a structure that towered high above the rest. Perhaps he had left Midgard after all, for this sight seemed altogether alien. Towering and rather impressive, it intrigued him. So his feet carried him, only stopping when he stood beneath what appeared to be a gate.

Narrowing his eyes, he attempted to read the words spelled out in the metal above him. "Harland and Wolff," he murmured, wondering who those names might belong to. Looking beyond, he saw that the large structure he had seen before was in fact a frame of sorts. In that frame, something was being built.

Canting his head to the side in a thoughtful manner, he tried to see what in the Nine was being built. Whatever it was was of a substantial size and workers moved seamlessly about it. The hive of activity was fascinating to watch and was near enough for him to forget his prior confusion. 

"Excuse me, Sir?"

The voice came from his right and startled him back into the present. Looking to the side, he saw a young woman looking at him in a questioning manner. A polite but genuine smile curved her lips. "I beg your pardon?"

Her smile widened at his words. "You appeared a little lost is all, Sir," she explained, her voice carrying the accent of those he had heard earlier. Yet, there was a refined air about her, despite her appearance of a common laborer.

"Lost?" He repeated, feeling like a simpleton as he parroted her words back to her.

She nodded and gave him a moment before speaking again. "Folk like you do not generally visit places like this unless they have come to speak with my father. Is that why you have come? To speak with my father?" 

Here, he shook his head. "No. I am not. I am afraid that it was curiosity that drew me here, wherever this might be."

She laughed softly at his words. "You are in a shipyard, Sir. In Belfast."

"Belfast?" Perhaps, as with his earlier thought, he had left Midgard.

"Indeed," she replied. "And I would wager yourself to be from London. Am I right, Sir?"

London. Now there was a name he was familiar with. "What has given you that impression, young lady?"

"You manner of speaking, Sir," she replied easily. "It is very different to us here in Ireland."

Ireland, so that was where he was. Yes, he had become familiar with Midgard's regions over the course of his many travels to the realm as well during his most recent exploits. "How very astute of you."

Her smile returned. Although, had it ever really left? She followed his gaze to the construction a little way off. "I see she has caught your interest then, Sir?" She asked softly.

"She?" He echoed, confused.

The young woman nodded and let out a contented sigh. "I know she is not much for the eyes at the moment, but just you wait and see when she is all completed, why then she will be a sight to behold."

The pride in her voice was obvious, nor did he miss the shine in her eyes as she looked at the metal frames. "A ship then? Considering where we are?"

"Indeed, Sir. The most beautiful ship to ever have been designed and built. She will be the Queen of the oceans."

"Is that to be the name then?"

"Oh no, Sir," she said, eyes and attention still on the structure before them. "No. That shall be her title. One of many. But as for her name, why that shall be _Titanic. RMS Titanic."_

Why did that name sound so familiar? "Titanic," he repeated softly. It would certainly suit the vessel.

"Yes," she breathed and folded her hands before her. It seemed as though she wanted to say something further when a second young woman hurried up to her.

"Miss? Your father is looking to speak with you."

"My father? Oh, very well, thank you Mary."

As the woman named Mary scurried off, she turned back to him and smiled apologetically. "It would seem our meeting is at an end, Sir. Unless of course, you _did_ wish to speak with my father?"

Curious as to who this man might be, Loki nodded.

"Follow me then, Sir. He will be in his office."

The workers they passed nodded to him and smiled at her. Though there appeared to be a very evident air of familiarity, there was still an unseen line that no one seemed to cross. A form of respect. Who was she that could garner such a reaction from the people? 

Soon enough they entered into a series of buildings. Large square things they were and lacking in all the finesse he was accustomed to. As they passed by various rooms, his companion had taken it upon herself to explain what each was used for. One for drafting, while another was for accounting and another was occupied by a series of contraptions he had never seen before.

Then at last, after numerous flights of stairs, they came to a halt before a rather ordinary looking door. Upon opening the door, the young woman stepped inside and waited for him to follow before closing the door behind them. "Father?" She called.

"Y/N, there you are," came another voice. The owner of said voice soon entered the room and smiled upon seeing her. "You bring someone with you?"

She nodded. "Aye, father. He has taken an interest in _Titanic_ , and I took the liberty of explaining a few short details about her."

"Is that so?"

"Indeed. Now, I was told you were looking for me?"

The man nodded. "I was yes, or have you forgotten about the reception tonight?"

A moment of silence passed before the young lady, Y/N, said a most unbecoming word under her breath.

"I thought you might have forgotten," her father chuckled, the look in his eyes fond. "Your mother has sent a carriage, it waits for you at the main gates."

Nodding, she turned to Loki. "I apologise profusely for abandoning you here, Sir. You are in fine company."

The moment the door closed behind her, her father turned to look at him. "It has been some time since my daughter has last entertained the company of a gentleman. Might I ask your name, Sir?"

Hesitating for a moment, Loki considered his options. Ought he to give his true name and risk discovery? Discovery by whom exactly, he did not know. "Loki," he replied, surprising himself. "Loki Laufeyson."

While the man before him raised an eyebrow, he remained silent and extended his hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Sir. Thomas Andrews, architect and chief builder of _Titanic."_

"The pleasure is mine," Loki replied and took the offered hand in a firm grip.

"Might I offer an invitation for yourself to join us this evening?"


End file.
